


Shotgun Wedding (On A Friday Night)

by BleedingInk



Series: You Stopped The Noise [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Fame, Friendship, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Rock Stars, Secret Relationship, Shotgun Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Her upcoming wedding to Castiel has Meg thinking about her past relationships.
Relationships: Castiel/Meg Masters
Series: You Stopped The Noise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680700
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: What's In A Name - Supernatural





	Shotgun Wedding (On A Friday Night)

It’s happening

Meg still can’t quite process it, but it’s happening. She’s slightly nauseous and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the little stranger growing in her womb or the movement of the van as they eat miles and miles of road, leaving California behind for the vastness of the Nevada desert.

She has never been one of those little girls that dreamed about her wedding. Hell, she has always been averse to the entire idea of marriage, to the idea that she would one day stop being Meg Masters to become Mrs. So-and-so. She doesn’t hate the concept of a long-term thing, though, and figured that maybe one day she would meet a guy that she’d like, someone she could share her life with, without the need of a government-issued piece of paper to say she could. Given how quickly her previous relationships had crashed and burned, she had begun to doubt it by the time she started sleeping with Castiel.

He is different from any of the guys that came before. He’s so sweet and so caring towards her. Meg projects the image of an excessively independent person, a tough girl who doesn’t need anyone and sometimes, she really believes she is. When she’s on stage, when she plays her music, she feels like nothing at all can touch her.

But sometimes she has to admit she feels terrible. Like when her first band broke up because Lilith and Ruby both wanted to “pursue different projects”. Like when the media spreads rumors that she is a junkie, an alcoholic and someone is cheating on their SO with her. Like when The Hunters’ fans outright hated her because they felt she had come to replace Charlie.

Yes, she put on a brave face through it all. Yes, she isn’t a thin-skinned baby that just lets what people said get to her. She grew up with a perfectionist dad who was always demanding more of her, a brother she couldn’t live up to and a bunch of bullies that tormented her all through school because she dared to listen to rock music and dress up differently than them. She isn’t going to get sad because some middle-schoolers with nothing better to do call her a skank on Twitter.

But the sheer volume of hate she gets sometimes for things she can’t control or that shouldn’t matter to anyone but her and Castiel… well, it can get exhausting sometimes. In those times, whenever she feels tired or sad or angry, he is the person she knows she can turn to.

It is… odd. When they’d first met, she liked Castiel right away, sure. He is handsome and way more muscular than one could imagine at a simple glance. He has big strong hands and a stoic, calm demeanor that makes him look mysterious and deep. In any other person, that same attitude can come off as douchey, but one of the first things Castiel told her directly was a compliment on her talent and her presence on stage rather than something about her appearance. She never could’ve suspected that was going to set the tone for the rest of their relationship.

Now, Meg isn’t going to say she fell in love with him just for that, but she definitely came to appreciate him as a person because of how kind and attentive he proved himself to be long before her feelings caught up with her.

No, the day she fell in love came much later. They were working on the fourth The Hunters’ album, the first one with Meg as a full, official member, which meant that they had been sleeping together for about a year. Meg felt like a touring member during that time: since she came to replace Charlie midway through the previous album’s production, she felt like she was trying to fit in and find her rhythm in what was an already well-oiled machine. Sam, Dean and Castiel already had established dynamic and way of working, with Cas writing most of the music and the brothers coming up with the lyrics. They had finished most of the songs already and there was very little for Meg to do, creatively speaking, except to follow the parts that they had originally intended for Charlie.

The fourth album, however, was different. It was when Meg had come on her own as a full member of the band. And it was when her relationship with Castiel became something far deeper than it had been.

Meg remembers the exact moment she realized she was in it for the long haul. She woke up at the crack of dawn, which is strange for her, since she is much more of a night owl than Castiel. The other side of the bed was empty, but still a little warm, like he just got up. She sunk on the pillows again, fully intending to fall asleep and maybe only moving when Castiel returned and she could have, uh… breakfast in bed.

But that was when she heard it: the music coming from the living room. The notes of the guitar were sweet and slow, interrupted now and then by the rustling of paper. Then the melody came again, longer this time, finding a new chord here or a new twist there. It was beautiful and only something that could come from Castiel’s fingers.

Meg got up, wrapping her nakedness in a sheet, and popped her head out of the bedroom. Castiel was sitting on the couch in his pajama bottoms, with his back turned to her. He had his guitar on his lap and played the melody over and over; stopping only to write down what he was creating. His dark hair was messy and Meg had a front view of the strong muscles of his back, which she loved to hang on to and scratch when they were in bed together.

She walked past the couch, a ghost dragging the sheets behind her, but Castiel was so absorbed in his composition that he didn’t even look up. So Meg had a different angle now from the kitchen and she had the chance to stare at his furrowed brow, the long fingers that went up and down the guitar’s neck. The morning light bathed his torso, his skin golden after the hours he’d spent in the California sun.

And something inside of Meg… broke. It was like a dam that had been holding back a lot of words she wanted to say, a lot of emotions she hadn’t allowed herself to fully explore until that very moment. She didn’t just lust after him; she didn’t just admire him as an artist and a musician she shared a passion with.

She loved him. She could wake up every single morning to this vision of him, leaning over his guitar and lost in the music. She wanted to stay there as long as they could, in that very nice bubble made of sunlight and melodies, where no one but themselves could exist, where nothing but each other mattered.

Then the coffee maker beeped and Castiel finally looked up, startled, as if he just remembered he wasn’t the only person in the apartment. He smiled at her.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you.” Meg turned her back on him, waiting for her heart to stop pounding and begging her hands didn’t shake too much. Just because she loved him didn’t mean that she was ready to share that with him right them. She poured the coffee in two mugs and taken them to the couch. After handing him one of them, she’d let herself fall in her favorite seat in the world: Castiel’s lap. “What are you writing?”

“Just… something I heard in my sleep.”

“You dream about music?”

“You don’t?”

She did, but that was beside the point. She just wanted to make fun of him for being a nerd. She ran her fingers through his hair, making it even more of a mess and kissed the edge of his lips.

“I want to hear it,” she said.

And so he played it for her. He took her criticism and corrected some parts while she ran to grab her bass. That was the first song they had written together.

Meg still loves the moment when they get to play it on stage.

There is a bump underneath them and Meg opens her eyes, startled. She fell asleep without realizing. Castiel is also asleep, with his face hidden on her shoulder. Sam, Dean and Samandriel are all slumbering peacefully in the other seats. In fact, the only one who seems wide awake was their driver and bodyguard, Benny, who keeps his eyes on the road and his hands firmly on the wheel.

Meg rubs her eyes and looks outside of the window. It’s still the middle of the night, with the stars shining bright on a dark blue sky. The road is open and empty in front of them.

“You okay there, lil’ sister?” Benny asks in his deep southern drawl. “You need us to make a quick stop?”

Meg thinks about it for a second. The past few days, the morning nausea has been killing her. She thought it was because of something that she ate (food isn’t exactly healthy on the road most of the time), but when it persisted, well… she started suspecting the cause was something very different.

However, she doesn’t really feel bad at that precise moment, so she shakes her head. She pushes Castiel away softly. He rolls over without opening his eyes, presses his forehead against the window and lets out a deep snore that sounds a little bit like a growl. Meg laughs to herself and moves past the seats to the empty front one, where she can talk to Benny without waking the others.

“How far away are we?”

“Just a couple of hours. We’re going to get there to get your marriage license first thing in the morning,” he assures her. “By this time tomorrow, you’re going to be Mrs. Castiel Novak.”

“I’m thinking of keeping my maiden name and hyphenating the kid’s,” Meg points out.

Benny lets out a huff, as if he disapproves of Meg’s choices, and she laughs again. He likes to play the conservative southern gentleman sometimes, but if he was, he wouldn’t be working for a bunch of rock stars with very dissolute lives.

“So you’re really going to go through with this, huh?” Benny asks.

Meg toys with the ring in her finger, the one that Castiel had costume-made for her. It’s beautiful, in the shape of a rose with a purple sapphire. The small town girl and the waitress that couch-surfed for years before getting her break in her cringe at the thought of how much it cost, but she can’t deny she loved from the second Castiel presented it to her.

He knows her all too well. He knows she wouldn’t have loved a huge diamond. This is more personal, more intimate, and that is exactly why it meant so much to her.

“Why wouldn’t I go through with it?” she asks. “Cas and I have been together for years. I love him. We’re having a kid…”

“Oh, I don’t mean the marrying him part,” Benny clarifies. “I mean the elopement part. Is there really no one you’d like to invite to the wedding? No one you’d want to have by your side in a moment like this?”

“Not really, no.”

“Woah, okay,” Benny says. He sounds surprised at Meg’s bluntness. “You don’t want to think about it a little longer?”

Meg tries to, but she can’t really think of anyone she is close enough to that she would miss in a moment like that. She hasn’t talked to her brother in years. She talks to her dad, but it’s only when he needs money. Meg sends him a check every month because well, she can afford it, and it’s the only way to make sure he stays off her back and doesn’t leak stories about her to the press.

As for friends, she doesn’t exactly have many. Sam and Dean, she guesses, but honestly Castiel is closer to them. To her, they are more like… coworkers she has a cordial relationship with. She finds most other people in the industry to be insufferable. For example, she is certain that Naomi and Chuck are going to throw an absolute fit when they find out what they’re planning to do in Las Vegas.

She figures maybe Lilith and Ruby fall into that category, but… well, their parting wasn’t quite amicable.

It happened in Lilith’s house; that was so big it was one or two square meters shy of being a mansion. They and their manager called her for a “conversation” that had the sole purpose of telling Meg that it was over.

“Look, it’s not like we’re breaking up permanently!” Lilith said. “It’s just… it’s time to try other projects and…”

“And you think whatever you’re going to try and do next is going to make you more money than Daughters of Darkness?” Meg asked, with a sarcastic laughter that might not have been great for her case. She had suspected that it was coming, for months now. But to actually be there, to be told by the two people she considered her closest friends, that they didn’t want to keep going anymore…

“It’s not about the money,” Ruby argued. “It’s about… I don’t know. Not stagnating. Not doing the same thing for twenty years and then regretting we didn’t branch out or tried something new.”

“That is bullshit and you know it,” Meg snapped at them. “We have a great thing going. We’re awesome together…”

“The numbers from the last album don’t support that claim, darling,” Crowley, their manager, said. The insufferable bastard was sitting on the armchair to the side, calmly sipping a whiskey that probably cost more than Meg’s entire wardrobe. “The label is breathing down my neck. You have fulfilled your three-album contract, but they’re not satisfied with the results and they’re not going to support a new venture for D. O. D.”

She’d always hated the way he abbreviated the band’s name.

“So we go to another label!” Meg protested. “Hell, who needs a label? We get a fundraiser going! We start our own damn label…”

“Meg,” Lilith cut her off. There was something in her eyes, something that looked almost like pity on her. “It’s not the label. It’s… it’s us.”

“What are you talking about? We’re fine!”

At that point, Crowley put his whiskey down and stared directly at her.

“I don’t think you’re getting the picture here,” he said. “The real problem, dear Meg, is you. You are constantly pushing this band forwards, without realizing you’re the only one who even wants to be here still.”

Meg scoffed at that notion, but inside she felt deeply unsettled by his assertion. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ruby and Lilith don’t feel that way,” she said. “Do you?”

The way they avoided her eyes gave them away before they even said a word.

“What? Girls, come on…” Meg protested. “We’ve been doing this since college! We’ve always been together!”

“Yes, that’s exactly the point,” Ruby said, scoffing. “Look, Daughters of Darkness went as far as we could take them. It’s been a fun ride, we’ve had some success with it, but… maybe it really is time we tried something other than that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Meg said. She understood the words that were being said, but it was as if her brain refused to fully process them. “What else is there to do?”

She knew they were selling bullshit to her because neither of them had been able to give her a concrete answer. There had just been more awkward glances in every direction but hers and a long, thick silence full of tension.

Crowley had finally spoken up again:

“We know you’re passionate about music, Meg,” he said. “And you are very good at what you do, there’s no denying that. If you want to continue that path, you will have my full support. I will, in fact, continue your support each of your separate careers.”

And then he gave her slimy smile that had sent shivers down Meg’s back.

But she suddenly understood what was really wrong with that picture.

“You…” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “This is all your idea.”

“Meg…”

“You want to have three clients instead of one,” she accused him. “The cut is going to be bigger for you that way, isn’t it?”

“Meg, please, you’re letting your emotions say things you don’t really mean…”

“Oh, fuck off,” Meg interrupted. “You don’t want to keep the band going? Fine! I don’t need any of you!”

She’d picked up her jacket and headed out, ignoring Ruby and Lilith calling after her. She had then blocked them on her phone and on social media, though she was later informed by Dorothy that had been seen as a petty move on the part of the band fans.

Meg hadn’t cared at the time and she isn’t too sure she cares now, years later. She spent the year between Daughters of Darkness’ break-up and The Hunters hiring her writing songs and being mad at Ruby and Lilith. Daughters of Darkness had been Meg’s baby, her passion. She had dedicated all her time and energy to it, so sure that it was something great, that she had never even stopped to think about what she was going to do if she didn’t have it anymore.

But what stung the most had been the betrayal. She couldn’t understand what had led to this. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. They were the best friends she’d ever had, the only friends, in fact. Back in college, when they were just three girls playing for the love of it, before the label, before their breakthrough, before the albums and the tours, she had thought that they were always going to be together, through failure and successes. She still can’t believe she was so wrong.

So yeah, she isn’t exactly overflowing with friends or family that she would be interested in having at her wedding. Honestly, if it hadn’t been because Benny is driving them and because Sam and Dean were so enthusiastic about the idea, she wouldn’t even have invited them. Samandriel is Castiel’s cousin, so he gets a pass because it’s Castiel’s wedding too, she supposes.

But she’s fine with just it being the two of them in the courthouse.

She changes the topic in the best way that she can.

“Hey, if you want to be the want to give me away, that’s fine with me, big guy.”

Benny chuckles, but then checks Meg’s expression in the rearview mirror.

“Wait, really?”

“I mean, I trust you over any of these knuckleheads,” she says, pointing at her future groom and their sleeping entourage. “I’m going to need someone big and strong to hold me and make sure I don’t trip on my heels on the way to the altar.”

“Are you flirting with me, Mrs. Novak?” Benny asks, squinting at her.

“Oh, dearie me, of course not!” Meg replies, putting on her best southern accent. “I would never dare do such a thing, sir. I have a fiancé who’s going to make an honest woman out of me…”

“Okay, stop, stop. Don’t ever do that again,” Benny says, shaking his head. “That was horrible.”

“Sorry,” Meg replies, but she’s still laughing. She feels like a bit of a dick for enjoying his discomfort, but she can’t help it.

“I guess this means I’m your maid of honor, then,” Benny jokes. “How about I come with you to shop for the dress?”

“Oh, come on, no. I don’t need any of that…”

“Are you going to get married in that?” Benny says, pointing disparagingly at Meg’s t-shirt and ripped jeans.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t exactly scream bride to me.”

“I don’t need to look like a bride to be one,” she points out.

“No, he’s right,” someone intervenes, startling them both. Meg turns around to see Castiel, peeking his head over Dean’s seat, who’s still fast asleep. He has a huge smile plastered on his face. “You should get a dress. I mean, we can do away with everything else, but I really wanted to see you in white.”

“Is it a deal breaker for you if I don’t?” Meg asks, crooking an eyebrow.

“Not at all. If you want to marry me naked, I would be okay with that.”

“I mean, I’m sure we can arrange that…” Meg jokes. Castiel blushes and giggles like an embarrassed teenage boy and Benny makes a sound of disgust.

“You need to stop,” he protests.

“It’s just… I don’t know, a symbol that this is for real,” Castiel insists. “I can’t believe I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. I want to see you as my bride at least once.”

In the mouth of literally any other person in the world, that line would’ve been the pinnacle of cheesy. It would have been the most bullshit thing Meg had ever heard in her entire life.

When Castiel says it, however, it sounds entirely earnest. Matter-of-fact. Like, he truly pities all the other men in the world who aren’t marrying her.

Meg feels all warm and fuzzy inside at that declaration. And well, he really isn’t asking for much, right? She can wear a damn dress for the ten minutes the ceremony is going to last and the hour or two when they’re going to celebrate (without alcohol, of course, for the sake of the little one in her case and out of solidarity in Castiel’s).

“Fine,” she agrees, finally. “But nothing puffy.”

* * *

Las Vegas receives them with a bright orange sun in the horizon. Samandriel, not used to getting four hours of sleep in a moving van, looks pale and has dark circle under his eyes. Sam and Dean, more used to this sort of routine, have one coffee and are ready to go.

Meg envies them. The smell makes her feel slightly sick and she’s dizzy as they climb the steps of the courthouse. She’s simultaneously hungry as all hell, but she doesn’t dare take a bite of anything. She fears she might end up barfing all our over the desk of some poor country clerk.

Castiel, of course, is the only one who notices.

“Do you need to sit down? We’ll keep the place on the queue.”

“That’s fine,” Meg assures him. “Can I just lean on you, please?”

Castiel places an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in.

“Are you… are you sure you want to do that?” Samandriel asks, lowering his voice.

There are people staring at them, mostly young people. Their expressions are quizzical and confused. Some of them look away, in order to pretend they aren’t really staring, only to stare at them again right away again. Meg guesses there’s no way to hide what’s going on, though. They are all wearing leather jackets and sunglasses inside and they’re accompanied by a big, buff dude who glares at anyone who comes anywhere close to them. The poor people staring are probably just wondering where they know them from.

“Maybe we should have come later,” Meg suggests.

“No, there’ll be more people later,” Benny assures them. “It’s better now.”

Meg is tempted to ask him how he knows about that, but then a clerk with a very bored expression on her face calls their name. She notices some more people staring at them, but at least no one has taken out their cellphone to snap a picture. Not yet, at the very least.

“Please fill out these applications,” the clerk says, extending two pieces of paper and a pen towards them. She is short woman with black hair and glasses, smartly dressed and with an expression of utter boredom that doesn’t quite fit with her youthful age.

“Is the license going to be issued today?” Castiel asks.

“Yes, sir, and after it does you have a sixty day period to hold the ceremony,” the clerk tells them.

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Ah, eloping…?” the clerk asks and finals looking up at them. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen and become shiny with excitement.

Great. Of all the clerks in all the courthouses in all of the world, and they found the one who is a fangirl.

“Oh,” she mumbles. “Oh, my God…”

“Please, keep your voice down,” Sam begs her.

She closes her mouth, but she’s blushing and stuttering.

“You’re… oh, my God, I… I love you, I have all of your albums…”

Dean immediately takes charge of the situation. He leans closer to the desk and flashes his million-dollar smile, the one that makes all the fans swoon.

“Ah, thank you, sweetheart,” he says, extending his hand towards her. “What’s your name?”

“I, uh… my name…” she says and it looks like she completely forgot what the answer is.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Sam encourages her.

“… ce… Cecily,” the clerk finally says.

“Cecily, can you please keep this on down low?” Dean asks. “We are trying to keep the wedding as discreet as possible.”

“A wedding?” Cecily repeats. She (very reluctantly) takes her eyes off Dean and takes in the fact that it’s Castiel and Meg filling out the forms. “Oh, my God!” she exclaims again, and this time loud enough that people are definitely noticing.

Meg grits her teeth. Please, let no one tweet about this…

“Oh, my God!” Cecily repeats. “I didn’t know… I had no idea…”

Well, the cat is already out of the bag, so they might as well go all in.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” Meg says. “Doctor says all this standing up is not great for the baby.”

She’s blatantly lying. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since she took the test that confirmed her pregnancy. She hasn’t even been set a doctor appointment yet.

Cecily eats it up.

“The baby!” she shouts, her eyes practically popping out of her skull.

“If you would please…” Castiel says, and hands her both of their applications. Now all the boys are looking at her over their dark shades, making the most heartbreaking puppy eyes they can muster. Cecily looks like she’s about to pass out.

“Oh, my God, I… I need to… yes. Give me a second, please!” she says, standing up and moving away from her desk briskly.

Now more people are staring, but Meg clicks her tongue and ignores them as she continues filling out the form.

“Benny, that guy is filming them,” Samandriel points out. Benny squares up his shoulders and cracks his knuckles.

“Woah, okay, no. Let’s try something different,” Sam says.

He stalks towards the guy and starts talking to him, though Meg isn’t sure what he says. Dean walks in a different direction where some girls are definitely pointing at them and muttering to each other, but dissolve in nervous giggles as soon as Dean smiles at them.

Meg knew, of course, that with the wedding and the baby, her relationship to Castiel would no longer be a private affair. Logically, in her brain, she knew that. But now that there’s actual people staring at them and talking about them, taking pictures and whatnot, she feels… odd. Protective. Suddenly she wants to grab Castiel by the sleeve of his jacket and drag him away from there. Why do they need to get married anyway? Why do all those people not just…?

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks her, leaning down on her.

Meg breathes in and, to her surprise, when she breathes out again, it comes out as a shaky, strangled sob.

“What the hell?” she mutters, touching her cheeks. She has no idea why her eyes are doing that or why she suddenly feels like she wants to run away and hide.

“Meg. It’s okay. It’s fine,” Castiel assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We can come back another time, if you’re not feeling well.”

Meg shakes her head. No, dammit, she came all this way to get married and she is going to, no matter how many star struck fans they have to shoo away.

Luckily, that turns out to be none. Sam and Dean take pictures with the group of giggling girls and there’s a small crowd around them, handing them pens and asking for selfies. She isn’t sure half of the people there know who they were, but just the fact that someone recognizes them as famous is enough to get everyone wanting to take a pic. Benny keeps glaring all the people that flocked to them, but did not much else to stop them. Dean is soaking up all the attention like a sponge, while Sam, while a lot more restrained than his brother, is letting people touch his hair and holding hands for a few seconds too long while he stares at the eyes of whoever is talking to him.

They’re really good at what they do and Meg is extremely happy they’re keeping the attention away from them. She’s so used to behaving distantly with Castiel in public, she’s still not sure how she feels that everyone can see him putting his arm around her waist and leaving a quick kiss on her temple.

Cecily returns after a few more seconds.

“Alright, I’m sorry for that!” she says. She’s obviously still flustered, but she’s apparently taken the time to calm down enough to talk to them like a normal person. She stamps something on the forms, staples them together and hands it to them. Her hands are shaking a little. “Thank you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks to you,” Castiel said. “Can you… maybe wait a few hours before you tweet about this?”

“Well, I’m not allowed to have my phone on me during working hours, so that won’t be a problem,” Cecily says, with a nervous laughter. She then grabs a pen and a random piece of paper. “Can I… if it’s not much to ask… get your autograph?”

“Of course,” Castiel says, but to both their disconcert, Cecily hands the things to Meg.

“I saw Daughters of Darkness in concert and it changed my life!” she says. “ _Dancing on Your Grave_ inspired me to break up with my boyfriend! Is there any chance the band will reunite again?”

“Oh,” Meg mutters. She’s a little taken aback. After joining The Hunters, she became so used to getting snuffed by fans in favor of the boys that she’s a little rusty when it comes to the smiling and the thanking she’s supposed to do now. “I mean… I don’t think so.”

“That’s a shame. I would love to see you play with Ruby and Lilith again!” Cecily keeps gushing.

“Yeah, well… this is going to be a busy year for me,” Meg comments and gently points at her stomach.

“Oh, of course!” Cecily says, covering her mouth. “Congratulations again!”

Meg used to have a little series of ready to go phrases she wrote down when she wasn’t sure what to put in her autographs, but she doesn’t use any of them now. She didn’t think just going to the courthouse to get the damn license was going to be such a roller coast of emotions, but the fact that Cecily was so kind to them is making her want to cry again.

So she writes: _Thank you for being part of this day_.

Because now that she has the papers in her hand, she can say with certainty that it’s officially her wedding day.

* * *

Their group divides in two when they leave the courthouse.

“We’re going to find a little white chapel and maybe throw this guy a last minute bachelor party,” Dean declares, swinging an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “You need to get the dress. We’ll text you the address as soon as we have it.”

“Are you guys going to be okay?” Benny asks, frowning. Of course, as his bodyguard, he’s reluctant to just let them leave without him, but Dean insists.

“Yeah, of course!” Dean assures him. “I mean, have you seen the size of this guy? He can take on anyone!”

“Thank you, Dean,” Sam says, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling as well. “We’ll be fine.”

Castiel grabs Meg by the arm and gives her a quick kiss on the lips.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he tells her, smiling from ear to ear.

And Meg can’t either, to the point that she’s tempted to ask Castiel again if he’s super sure about the whole dress thing and if they can’t just go get married right at that moment. But she guesses the whole bachelor thing is important. Castiel probably wants to have a drink with his buddies and whatnot, so she lets them go.

Oh, damn, she’s not going to be able to have any alcohol for a while now, is she? Goddammit, maybe they should’ve waited until the kid was born so she could drink at her own stupid wedding, but then again… if they had waited that long, the press might have caught whiff of it by then.

She has no idea if Cecily and the other people at the courthouse (Sam and Dean asked to wait a little to post the pictures as well) are going to keep their promise, so there’s a very real chance she already has paparazzi coming their way to hound them. That’s the thought that crosses her mind when they get in the band and Samandriel says:

“Okay, I have pulled a list of the best bridal boutiques in the town. Do you want me to read you the reviews…?”

“What’s the one closest?” Meg asks.

“Uh… are you sure? It’s ranked fifth.”

“I don’t care,” Meg assures him. “Just get us there.”

Samandriel punches the address in his phone and ten minutes later they’re pulling up in the entrance. The receptionist seems unimpressed when they announce they need a wedding gown.

“When’s the wedding?”

“Today.”

For a place that’s famous for impulsive and improvised weddings, she seems a bit taken aback by that declaration.

“Miss, our wedding gowns need to be purchased in advance so they can be tailored…”

“I don’t care for any of that,” Meg interrupts her. “I just need a dress now.”

“O… okay. You will have to purchase something off the rack, then,” she says. She suddenly looks a little bit nervous at the idea. “Umh, what’s your budget?”

“We don’t have one,” Meg says.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t care for the price,” she insists. “Just show me what you have in my size and I’ll put it in my credit card.”

She perks up considerably when she hears that money is not an issue.

“Of course. Come this way!”

She leaves them with a consultant that also seems very relieved to hear that money is not an option.

“We have some beautiful ball gowns that will need very little adjustment…”

Meg isn’t particularly concerned with how she wants her wedding dress to look, but she knows exactly how she doesn’t want it to be.

“No, nothing puffy,” she stops her. “Nothing with lace or beads or anything complicated like that. Definitely no Cinderella shit.”

“Okay,” the consultant says. She looks like she’s growing desperate, even though Meg was certain getting a bit more specific was going to make her job easier. “Umh… do you have a preferred shade?”

“They come in different shades?”

“Yes, we have stark white, natural white, alabaster, ivory…”

“You know what, just… bring me one of each and we’ll see how they look,” Meg proposes.

The consultant sighs once again and leads her to the changing room. Meg puts on the silk robe she offered and twiddles with her phone. After a moment longer, her impatience wins. She opens and checks for the band’s name in social media, which she usually avoids because she knows nothing good can come of that. However, to her surprise, the people at the courthouse have kept their promise to remain quiet. Either that or they don’t have a enough of a following to go viral with their pictures of Sam and Dean.

In any case, Chuck, Naomi and Dorothy haven’t called them in a panic yet, so that’s another good thing. Dean mentioned inviting Charlie to come, but she doesn’t know if The Hunters’ ex-bassist can drop everything she’s doing in LA and come join them.

She thinks again about the question Benny asked, about who she could possibly want there. She opens her contacts list and goes through the names one by one, only to confirm what she already knew: she’s not close enough to any of these people to miss them being there. Even if she wanted her brother and her father to be there, they’re halfway across the country and there’s no way they can get there in time.

She stops when she finds Lilith’s name on the list. It has been years since she last spoke to her. After she’d stormed off the mansion, there had still been some legal threads to tie up regarding the dissolution of Daughters of Darkness, so even though that technically hadn’t been the last time she spoke to either her or Ruby, it was the last time she did so without any lawyers present.

She had the impression they wanted to say something to her one morning while they were all waiting on the record label’s headquarters, sitting in three different chairs and making an effort not to look at each other. She could still remember the way Lilith’s blonde hair sparkle under the light beaming in through the window or how Ruby’s perfectly manicured nails fidgeted with the edges of her jacket.

Meg was still furious with them, but underneath that, there was a feeling that was ten times harder to confront: she was sad. Sad, because the two people in that room looked like her best friends, like the girls she’d played with in dirty bars and half-empty rooms, the girls she had shared a car with when they decided to ditch college and run away to California. There were too many memories there: the roach-infested one bedroom apartment they had shared, the grueling hours working part-time jobs and unpaid gigs, the notebooks covered in lyrics and notes of what had become the songs of their first album. They had laughed, they had cried, they had starved and they had succeeded together. She knew them better than anyone else.

But sitting in those chairs, waiting for the call of the corporate suits they had sold their souls to, Meg felt like those two women were complete strangers. And since they were, she had really nothing to say to them, not even when Ruby leaned forwards and muttered:

“Meg…”

Meg stood up and made her way to the fancy coffee machine in the corner. She entertained herself filling a cup and methodically adding milk, sugar and cream, even though she usually drank it black, just so she could have an excuse to stand with her back turned to her former band mates.

They didn’t try to engage her again until a secretary opened the door and called them in to sign the paperwork.

And that had been all. Meg had avoided reading news about her as much as possible, so she had only a vague idea of where they were or what they were doing now. Lilith had started acting in stupid action films and dating some douchebag comedian and Ruby had stuck out with music, with a solo career. Meg couldn’t say if she was any good, as she had avoided her songs like the plague. Maybe she wasn’t all that great if it had been that easy.

No, that’s a mean thing to think about her former best friend. But then again, what they did to her was pretty mean, so maybe it evens out?

She doesn’t know. She isn’t sure. All she knows is that she is going through one of the most decisive moments of her life and it feels… wrong that Ruby and Lilith aren’t there with her.

She shouldn’t miss them. But she does.

She decides to blame her hormones for making her weirdly emotional about all of this.

“Alright, here are your options!” the consultant says, barging into the room with what to Meg seem piles and piles of dresses. “Which one you’d like to try first?”

Despite Meg’s explicit instructions, she brought her some lacy dresses with very long trains that she discards outright. The siren ones with a sweetheart neckline are a little bit better, but Meg isn’t sure how she feels about it being falling all the way down to the floor, though she can’t exactly put her finger on why that is.

“So who’s the lucky guy?” she asks, in what must be the tenth attempt at striking a conversation with her.

“My boyfriend.”

She touches her ring, absentmindedly. Maybe she should have said fiancé instead?

“Right, so… what does he do for a living?”

“We’re actually co-workers,” Meg replies. She’s actually enjoying a bit the assistance’s frustration as her inability to get a straight answer from her continues.

“Well, okay. Do you want to show this dress to your… friends?” she tries, because Meg hasn’t clarified what her relationship with Samandriel and Benny is.

Meg stares at herself in the mirror. The tag of the strapless dress she’s wearing says it’s ivory, but she literally can’t tell the difference between that and a common white dress. She feels a little constricted in it, but she holds on to the shirt and makes her way out of the dressing room.

Samandriel and Benny are on a couch right outside. Samandriel is looking at his phone while Benny (so much for her maid of honor) is slumbering with his cap over his eyes. However, he startles awake as soon as Samandriel elbows him on the ribs.

“Oh, shit,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “That’s nice!”

“You think?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think it screams Meg,” Samandriel chimes in. “Maybe something with a little more bling?”

“I don’t need more bling,” Meg replies, but she can’t help but to agree that this dress feels way too elegant for her.

They go through other dresses that get the thumbs down for whatever reason. Samandriel tries to offer constructive criticism and suggestions, while the consultant grows visibly more frustrated with every second that goes by.

Benny, on his part, slumbers softly on the armchair.

“Maybe I’ll just get married in jeans and t-shirt,” Meg sighs, staring at the puffy ball gown that she’s wearing. It’s fabulous, but it’s certainly more suited to a big wedding with hundreds of guests or some shit.

The consultant glares at her while Samandriel is almost at the edge of tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “Do you maybe… have someone that can give you a female opinion on this?”

Meg fears that was what he was going to say. She takes in a deep breath and picks up the helm of the dress, heading back to the changing room without waiting for the consultant.

“Please give me ten minutes,” she requests.

The consultant definitely is unhappy, but she does anyway. Meg picks up her phone again and stares at it. Lilith always had a great sense of style, but she always felt closer to Ruby somewhat. Calling either of them is going to be mortifying anyway, and what if they changed their number? Is she an idiot for calling them after years as if nothing at all has happened…?

She can’t know unless she takes that risk. She takes a deep breath and presses the name.

it rings for a couple of times before the screen lights up and Ruby’s face appears in it. She hasn’t changed: she still wears the same dark brown hair and full lips. Her dark eyes are open wide, in shock.

“Meg?!” she asks, as if she can’t quite believe who’s calling her.

Meg tries to play this off casually. As casually as she can after three years of radio silence.

“Hi!”

“You… what?” Ruby asks, blinking. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I’m… I’m getting married.”

“You’re what?!”

Meg decides not to tell her she’s pregnant, because Ruby’s eyes are bulging and her mouth is open in a perfect O shape. She doesn’t look like she can handle more than one shocking news at a time.

“Yeah, crazy, right…?”

“To whom?! When?”

“Tonight, in Vegas,” Meg explains, as calmly as she can. “And uh, you know Castiel Novak?”

“Holy shit, really?” Ruby shakes her head. “He’s hot!”

“Yes, he is,” Meg agrees, because there’s no denying that. “Listen…”

“I need to sit down,” Ruby interrupts and proceeds to do precisely that in the most dramatic way possible: by practically fainting in a red couch that Meg recognizes. She’s in her penthouse, the one she bought for herself when the first album became a hit. “You… what?”

“Yeah,” Meg says. She tries to keep smiling, but she really needs to speed this process along. “And, uh… I don’t know how to pick up a dress. And Cas has his friends, but I don’t have anyone in my side of the aisle. And I never imagined I was going to be here and I love him, but I’m freaking out a little bit and…”

“Meg, you’re crying!”

Holy shit, she really needs to stop doing that. She takes a moment to collect herself, breathing in as slow as she can. She realizes she hates that dress, because it’s a size too small and she can’t sit down in it and she’s dizzy and tired all the sudden.

She’s lucky Ruby even picked up the phone.

“You’re… fuck. Congratulations!” she says.

“Thank you. I don’t… I don’t have tissues.” Meg sniffs and Ruby burst into laughter.

“Yeah, I don’t see where you could have them in that dress.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Honey, I know you’re eloping, but you can’t get married in that,” Ruby agrees, shaking her head with disapproval. “It’s hideous. Do you have a consultant?”

“How did you know? Did you get married?”

“I had a close call. I’ll tell you about it some other time,” Ruby says, as if this isn’t the first time they have spoken in years, as if she wouldn’t mind being on speaking terms with Meg once again. “Let me talk to her.”

Meg hands her phone to the consultant and Ruby starts spewing some very specific requests: and plunging neckline with a low back, knee-length, a bird cage veil, silver high heels. The consultant nods and perks up, as if that is exactly what she’s been waiting to hear all this time and promises to be back in a second.

“You’re going to look beautiful,” Ruby promises. “You have to show off your skin, your tattoos.”

As soon as she said it, Meg realizes why she has hated all the long dresses the consultant has shown her. She has tattoos on her legs that she’s paid good money for and dammit, she should get to flaunt it on her “special day”.

“Have you got any new ones?”

“Oh, like a dozen more,” Meg says, nodding. “You?”

“Well, I got drunk some nights ago and I woke up with a heart in my ass cheek.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, there’s a story there,” Ruby says, with a shrug. “I just wish I could remember what it was…”

They laugh. And then they laugh some more and they keep laughing until tears are rolling down Meg’s cheek, but she doesn’t remember why she was crying to begin with.

Maybe because Ruby jumped into action and started helping like nothing had happened, like Meg hasn’t been a jerk to her for a while, like they talked the day before and they’re still the same friends they were before.

“So… umh… how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to?” Meg asks, so they won’t fall into an awkward silence that holds too many unsaid things. “Other than, getting blackout drunk and waking up with weird tattoos.”

“Well, the second album’s been going slow. Turns out I suck as a songwriter,” Ruby admits, rubbing the back of her neck. “You were always the talented one and I was so mad when you settled to play second fiddle to the Winchesters.”

“No, come on. I’m not playing second fiddle,” Meg tries to argue. “Also they’re not as douchey as they seem.”

“Really?”

“Sam is not as douchey as he seems,” Meg corrects herself.

“Is he single?” Ruby asks. “More importantly, how big is it?”

“I’m literally getting married to the one who isn’t one of the brothers!” Meg reminds her.

“Come on, you’ve been on tour with him,” Ruby points out. And it’s true, there aren’t many things that can stay hidden when you’re sharing close living quarters with people for months at a time.

Meg glances at the door to make sure the consultant isn’t coming yet and lowers her voice.

“It’s a shower, for sure.”

Ruby opens her mouth and lets out a high-pitched squeal that sounds too much like delight. The consultant comes in at that exact moment and startles, but she doesn’t ask what the fuss is about. Meg places the phone on a nearby shelf and keeps talking to Ruby as she gets rid of the long dress and puts on the new one.

It’s shorter and shows much of her legs and arms. It has a very generous cleavage and her back is practically naked. She has to twirl and stay very still a couple of times when Ruby notices the new big tattoo she has there.

“Oh, my God, you really love this guy,” she says when Meg explains its significance: the runes are Enochian, a magic language, and they spell out Castiel’s name.

“Well, I’m marrying him.”

“Girl, husbands come and go,” Ruby replies, with a huff. “Tattoos are forever.”

The consultant stands on the tip of her toes to tie her hair up and places the birdcage veil on her head. Meg is sure she’s going to start crying for maybe the fifth time in the day when she looks at herself in mirror. The dress fits like a glove; it’s sexy and classic at the same time. The heels are vertiginously high, but she feels amazing in them. She looks like a bride, but she doesn’t _just_ look like a bride. She looks proudly like herself. And that’s even more important to her than anything else.

“Oh, my God, you’re beautiful!” Ruby exclaims. “Your man is going to love this!”

Meg has to make an effort to choke back the tears.

“Ruby… thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“No problem. Hey, call me up when you’re back in LA. It was great talking to you.”

Like nothing at all had happened. Meg takes a second to collect herself and walks out of the changing room. Samandriel has fallen asleep with his head on Benny’s shoulder but jumps up the second they hear her footsteps.

“Jesus,” he mutters and shakes Benny awake.

The bodyguard’s eyes open wide when they fall on Meg and then a huge beam extends through his face.

“Ah, that’s what we’re talking about!”

Meg smiles at the consultant.

“I’ll take it,” she says.

“Alright, let me help you take it off…”

“Oh, no honey, who has the time for that?” Meg says, shaking her head. “I’m walking out of here like this.”

“I’m not sure that’s allowed…”

“Samandriel, please tip this very nice lady for all the help she’s given me.”

“Oh, we’re not really supposed to accept…”

“Is a hundred enough?” Samandriel asks, taking out the money from Meg’s purse.

“Make it two,” Meg says, shrugging.

The consultant looks like she’s ready to faint. She stutters and trips over herself as she walks to the reception where Meg hands her credit card and smiles at the receptionist, who is as astounded as the shop consultant. Meg notices the heads turning in her direction as she struts out of the store with her “entourage” behind, but for once, she can’t care to pay attention to the whispers of surprise.

She has somewhere to be.

But first…

“Hey, can we stop at a Biggerson’s?” she asks as soon as she gets inside of the van. “I’m starving.”

“Should you be eating that stuff?”

“I don’t know. I’m just craving something super greasy,” Meg explains.

“Biggerson’s it is,” Benny accepts with a shrug.

“Samandriel, honey, give me my makeup,” Meg instructs.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Samandriel says. His face is lit up and his eyes shiny. “I can’t believe I get to see it.”

Meg chooses purple tones for her eye shadow and blood red lipstick that she doesn’t apply just yet. She still doesn’t know where exactly she is getting married, but she figures either Castiel has already called them or he is about to.

They just pulled over at the Biggerson’s and Benny is placing her order when her phone rings again. Meg picks it up with her heart jumping inside of her chest, but her stomach twists the second she says the caller ID.

It’s not Castiel, but Lilith.

“Meg? You’re pale,” Samandriel points out.

“It’s fine,” Meg says. She still takes a few seconds to convince herself of that before she answers.

Lilith looks much different than Ruby. She used to have a round, full face, but she has since lost a lot of weight, so her chin and cheeks seem sharper. Her blonde hair is brighter and her handsome face is contorted in a gesture of indignation.

“Bitch! You’re getting married?!” she screams at Meg as soon as she appears on the screen.

“Ruby is a fucking snitch,” Meg sighs.

“Umh, yes?” Lilith replies, rolling her eyes. “You call her for the first time in ages to tell her that but I have to find out from her?!”

“I mean, I figured she would tell you,” Meg replies. She doesn’t mean to sound bitter but she can’t really help it: “Since the two of you are still best friends and whatnot.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Lilith continues. She sounds extremely furious for some reason. “I haven’t talked to that skank in months! I can’t believe you didn’t even invite me?”

Meg takes a look at the impossibly blue sky in the background of Lilith’s camera and raises an eyebrow.

“Are you even in America right now?”

“No, we’re filming in the Dominican Republic. That’s beside the point!” Lilith protests. “I can’t believe you didn’t even invite me!”

“Would you have shown up?”

Lilith stares at her in a dumbfound silence, but then doubles down:

“I still would’ve appreciated being invited!”

“Well, I didn’t invite anyone, so you’re not special!” Meg replies. She doesn’t know why she’s screaming and she isn’t really sure what’s going in. Is this a fight? Are they fighting? Is this a discussion? “I literally decided to get married last night!”

“Well, of course you fucking did! You never plan anything ahead!”

“And you’re an insufferable fucking schemer who never stops planning and enjoys herself!” Meg retorts and now she’s certain that they’re fighting, because they’d had this fight before, many times. That only serves to make it even weirder, though, because those fights weren’t really so. They were more like… strong conversations that had the objective of pointing out each other’s flaws and see if they could be improved.

“Well, congratu-fucking-lations on finding a man crazy enough to marry your disorganized ass!”

“And congratulations to you on your acting career! I hope you’re making all of the dollars by whoring out to the studios!”

“I am! And you know what? When I get married, I’m gonna plan it three years in advance and make it a super awesome destination wedding and I fully expect you’d be there!”

“Jesus fuck, if it’s so important to you, you can be my child’s stupid godmother, for all I care!”

“I would fucking love that!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

They end the call at the same time and Meg holds her phone up and considers chucking it out of the window, groaning in frustration. It takes a second to realize that Samandriel is staring at her with mild concern in his face, clutching the Biggerson’s bag like it’s a shield of some sort.

“Umh…” he starts.

Meg bursts into laughter. She can’t help it. That definitely felt like the old times, when she and Lilith fought over the most stupid things, instead of the big important ones.

She isn’t sure what this means. She isn’t sure that they’re friends again or anything like that.

But she feels strangely less lonely than she did that morning.

Benny’s phone pings and he looks down for a second.

“Alright, it seems the boys have found you a venue,” he informs her. “Are you ready to get married?”

“Hold on.” Meg takes the paper bag from Samandriel’s hand, fishes the burger from inside and bites into it with gusto. After chewing and swallowing it, she nods. “Alright. Let’s get to it.”

* * *

Their last stop is a flower shop where Samandriel chooses a bouquet made of mostly blue flowers, though Meg is sure she’s not really following that whole tradition properly. She finishes her make up right as they’re pulling up in the “venue” where the boys are waiting for them. It is, just as they promised, a little white chapel. Samandriel runs inside to make sure it’s the right place and comes back nodding. Only then Benny helps Meg out of the band and offers her his arm.

“Damn, I feel like I should have get on a suit or something,” he comments, as if they hadn’t just spent the entire afternoon in a bridal shop where he could’ve easily got one for himself.

Meg is about to step inside, but she stops and hands Samandriel her phone.

“Call Ruby here and Lilith in yours,” she tells him. “So they can see this thing go down.”

“You got it,” Samandriel assures her.

“You ready?”

Meg wills herself not to cry one more time and accepts the arm that Benny is holding out for her.

“Let’s go.”

Benny opens the door for her. The nuptial march immediately starts echoing in the chapel, like someone had their finger on the standby button. The chapel is small and empty, and there’s, of course, an Elvis impersonator at the end of the aisle. Meg notices him first because it’s impossible not to, with the golden lame suit full of tassels and the aviator glasses covering his face. They’re really going all out with the Vegas wedding theme.

After she’s able to look away from the fake Elvis, she sees Cas and Sam. Both of them got formal suits, though Sam is a little bit shorter on the sleeves and Cas seems a bit hunched on his because they shoulders are too broad. Instead of a bowtie, he’s wearing a blue tie that brings out his eyes and white rose on his lapel.

His whole faces lights up with a radiant smile when he sees her coming down the aisle. Meg’s heart flutters and her stomach sinks, but in a good way. Like when she’s about to step on the stage to start a performance, but somehow ten times better.

“You look beautiful,” Castiel says, and his voice sounds like it’s about to break.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Meg assures him, with a smile. She removes a invisible fuzz from his shoulder, only to have the excuse to touch him, to double-check that he’s real and he’s really there and really wants to do this, because she feels like she’s floating.

She didn’t think getting married was that big of a deal, but in the process of a single afternoon, she’s talked to her two estranged best friends and cried a dozen times. She just hopes she’s not about to start tearing up right now.

“Lift the phone higher!” Ruby’s voice demands from the first pew. Meg looks over her shoulder only to see Samandriel has followed her orders. Lilith and Ruby are both on the screens, but she can’t really make up the expression on their faces in the small rectangles. She hopes they can see her smile, though.

“Alright, are we ready to start?” the Elvis impersonator asks as Sam turns off the music that was coming from his phone. Meg practically jumps when she recognizes his voice.

“Dean?!”

“No, I’m the King, baby,” Dean replies with a grin and runs his hand through the awful black Pompadour wig he’s wearing. “And I’m here to join the two of you in holy matrimony. So let’s do that right now.”

“It was his idea,” Castiel replies and Meg can’t only chuckle. Well, of course.

Dean moves on as if he doesn’t have a single inhibition in the world.

“Castiel Novak, do you take this woman to be your lover, your wife, the mother of your unborn child and all future children you might create, in sickness and in health and all that jazz?”

“I do,” Castiel says, his eyes fixed on Meg’s.

“And do you, Marjorie Masters, take this man to be your partner in crime, your husband, the father of your unborn child, in wealth and in poverty and whatever other trouble you get into?”

Meg has no idea who wrote those vows, but they sound extremely appropriate.

“I do,” she says, and she’s extremely proud for doing it without breaking down.

“Then by the power invested in me by the gods of rock past and present and this random website where I became ordained in literally fifteen minutes, I now pronounce you partners for life. You may kiss!”

Meg steps forwards, but she definitely should have practiced more walking in those sandals, because the heel gives out and suddenly she is falling forwards without control. Castiel catches her immediately, though: he lassoes his arm around her waist, pulls her close and just when she thinks he is about to stand her up, he dips her down instead. Meg yelps but the sound is swallowed by Castiel’s lips pressing against hers, sweet and warm. She wraps her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.

The world stops right there. She’s faintly aware of people clapping and cheering, the sound multiplied by the echoes of the empty chapel, and also of the fact that there’s a bunch of rice raining down on them.

But it’s like all of that (Dean in his ridiculous suit, Sam providing music and special effects, Benny and Samandriel and even Lilith and Ruby, all the news that will be on social media and all the commentaries and the hate she’s going to receive) has disappeared.

She thought there was nothing to this marriage thing, but she was utterly wrong. Nothing before ever felt like her life is beginning again as that kiss.

* * *

Castiel is not properly drunk, just a bit tipsy, but he still struggles with the buttons of Meg’s dress as he attempts to take it off once they’re in the honeymoon suite that Sam and Dean paid for them.

“Consider it your wedding gift,” Dean said when they dropped him off there. He’d taken off the ugly wig, but he still had the aviator glasses and that eyesore of a one piece suit on. “Meanwhile, we’re going to have a bit of a reception ourselves, aren’t we boys?”

“You’re going to go dress like that?” Sam asked, his eyes opening wide.

Dean looked down at his suit and beamed.

“Little brother, it’s not the suit that matters, it’s how you use it. Let’s roll!”

“Oh, God,” Benny muttered, as if he was already imagining all the trouble the guys were going to get into.

“I think I’d rather stay…” Samandriel tried to argue.

“No, no, Alfie, you’re coming too,” Dean said, grabbing him by the back of his collar. “You definitely need to loosen up a little bit, kid.”

“I would rather not…” Samandriel protested, but the brothers were already dragging him down the hallway.

Benny sighed and touched his cap.

“Congratulations to you both. I’m gonna make sure no one gets arrested on your wedding day.”

Meg envies them a little, that carelessness that they could drink, eat, gamble and sleep around as much as they can.

But then Castiel closed the door, pulled her in holding her tight in his big strong hands and kissed her again, open-mouthed and hungry, and Meg’s envy evaporated.

Because not a hundred parties or bottles of champagne can ever make her feel the way she does while they stumble through the suite (Christ, it’s bigger than the apartment she used to live in with Ruby and Lilith when they first moved to California) and into the bed.

“Give me a second. I’ll… I’ll figure it out,” Castiel says, as he fails once again to unbutton the dress. It’s just three of them, but he still has trouble with them, and Meg can’t help but to laugh at him.

“You know, you could just rip it off,” she says, laughing slightly.

Castiel’s fingers stop, as if he’s thinking about it, but ultimately shakes his head.

“No, it’s… it’s too pretty,” he tells her. “You look too pretty in it. I don’t want to rip if off.”

Meg didn’t really have the same consideration with Castiel’s suit and shirt. It’s open on the front and some of the buttons flew out in her eagerness, but she doesn’t think it matters. He still has the tie, slightly undone, falling over his chest and Meg has all sorts of ideas about what they could do with that.

But for now, she laughs as she detangles her hair from the bird cage veil and throws it recklessly on the carpet.

“Well, then, I could always just leave it on,” she suggests.

Castiel’s eyes grow wide at the suggestion and, by the way he licks his lips, she knows right away he’ll love that. She was so glad she bought the damn dress, because that means they can do whatever they want with it.

She moves to sit on Castiel’s lap and grabs his tie to pull him closer to her to kiss him again. His skin is burning against hers and she’s just so ready to enjoy their wedding night…

“Wait. Meg, hold on,” Castiel says, breaking away from her. “We don’t have condoms…”

“Why, are you afraid of making me more pregnant?”

Castiel laughs as his own stupidity and Meg runs a hand through his head.

“How much did you drink?” she asks, amused.

“I’m not sure. The guys just kept serving me the shots. We went to a karaoke bar,” Castiel explains. “People were taking videos.”

“Oh, no,” Meg says, but she can’t really be too mad. Not right now, not about anything.

“Yes, I’m afraid our period of grace will be done by the morning,” he sighs. His hand runs up and down Meg’s back, sending shivers all over her body. “So we should make the most of tonight.”

“I’m totally on board with that,” Meg says, smiling. “We should turn off our phones. Naomi is going to blow them up.”

“Good idea.”

They stop briefly what they’re doing to look around their bags. Castiel immediately turns his off and throws it over his shoulder, where it lands on the carpet, but Meg hesitates a moment with hers in hand.

“Meg?”

“I need to make a call,” she says. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Castiel leaves a peck on the edge of her lips and smiles at her reassuringly. “I’ll be waiting for you. On the bed. With no clothes on.”

“Now that’s alluring,” Meg says.

She checks Castiel’s ass as he walks away towards the bedroom. He winks at her as he closes the double doors behind him and Meg wonders if maybe this call can wait until the morning…

But no. She knows it can’t. In the morning, there’s going to be a media blitz and so many people to give explanations to she’s just not going to have the time. She needs to do it now, strike while the iron is hot.

It takes one ring for Ruby to pick up the phone, and she’s just as blunt as usual:

“Why aren’t you fucking your husband?”

The question sends Meg into a fit of laughter. She shakes her head.

“Oh, trust me, I intend to,” she says. “But I figured I would talk to you and Lilith first.”

Ruby makes a face.

“Listen, I only told her because you caught me by surprise, and well, you never told me I couldn’t…”

“I’m not mad,” Meg clarifies quickly. “I just… need to talk to the both of you. Can you call her on your computer?”

“Umh… yeah, sure,” Ruby says. “I don’t know what time it is in the Dominican Republic, though…”

It turns out it’s later there and Lilith is in the middle of her “beauty routine”: she has her hair wrapped in a towel, a bath robe and a weird green cream on her face that makes both Meg and Ruby burst into laughter as soon as it comes into the screen.

“What the fuck is that?” Meg asks, between chuckles.

“Just because you don’t care about your skincare routine doesn’t mean that I don’t have to,” Lilith replies, rolling her eyes. “Now, did you call to insult me again or…?”

“Guys,” Ruby says, in that tired tone that meant she doesn’t want them to fight.

“Actually, I called to say thanks,” Meg adds, trying to breathe in deeply not to get into another screaming match with Lilith, as lovely as their earlier one had been.

Both her former band mates look a bit taken aback.

“Okay?” Ruby asks while Lilith lifts her chin.

“Go on.”

“You guys have been with me through some tough shit,” Meg reminds them. “And well, it was nice having you here in some capacity when it’s good stuff as well.”

“Well, of course, who wouldn’t want me at their wedding?” Lilith says and Meg isn’t sure if she’s joking or not.

“I guess I’m a bit… confused,” Ruby admits. “I thought you hated us for ending Daughters of Darkness.”

“Oh, no, yeah. You’re both absolutely sellout skanks and I’m never working with you on anything again,” Meg states. She pauses. “But, you know. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you having you as friends sometimes.”

They both stared at her in silence.

“Ah, crap,” Ruby says, leaning back on the couch.

“I’m not supposed to cry with this thing on!” Lilith protests, fanning her eyes with her hands.

Meg doesn’t want to cry either. She’s had enough of that for the day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life and all that shit.

“So, yeah, maybe when we’re in LA, we can… get together? Go for lunch or some shit?” she proposes.

“Yeah,” Ruby says, a soft smile growing on her lips.

“Sounds good,” Lilith agrees.

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna need someone to plan my baby shower.”

“Baby shower?!”

“What baby…?”

Meg ends the call and subsequently turns off her phone, laughing quietly to herself. The wedding is going to be all over the news in the morning and she’s sure someone is going to contact her former band mates for commentary. They might tell them about the baby or they might not, and honestly, she finds it hard to care at this point.

If they’re going to open Pandora’s box, they might as well spill all of its contents at once.

She throws her cellphone on the floor as well and enjoys the softness of the carpet on the bare sole of her feet as she heads to the bedroom to enjoy her wedding night.


End file.
